It was good to see you yesterday. You always look and are such a decent bloke; a pleasant change from some other idiots I am dealing with, albeit by choice. Just seeing you is oh so nice. I am a ridiculous romantic - I know. I like what I see, the way you are, the things you say and do, simple as. And you wonder ‘why you’ give me butterflies the size of prehistoric 747’s? Think on it.

I’m thinking ‘why me?’ as I do live a somewhat ‘odd’ life.

I am getting more comfortable with my emotions where you are concerned. If we happen, it happens; if we don’t, it wasn’t meant to be. That’s kind of the way I think on everything. What will be, will be.

In my world, tings are getting a bit LARRY! All good fun though and definitely interesting. Going back up London soon for another kick at the hornet’s nest as the dirty side of the Metropolitan Po Po almost broke my mates arm. That was his intention and she is a girl. That’s not cool. A real man would never lay a hand of aggression on a woman.

The Blair’s have got to go. I don’t like their kind. Let them go live in America as they worship the Bushy brand of idiocy, so clearly. I doubt the Germans or the French would have them over for a pizza or a curry. I wish people understood that I think England is worth fighting for; and that the elite few like that tosser and his witchy immigration meister/Mrs. at 10 Downing Street or next door (wherever they live), have and are currently ruining your country - my country too.

I love England as I still love Canada and things are really bad there for some; just not many outside the country know how truly bad things have deteriorated just across the pond in Canada... yet. Canadian children are knowingly being placed at risk through corrupted legislation.

Questions of integrity and abuse of human rights - children’s rights - are starting to loom around the Canadian government, in specifically the old money bit - ‘Lower Canada’ - the Maritime Provinces of Lords and serfdom. Ever been taxed to death by your government? No time to talk? Too busy working? Sound familiar? Recognize the tune?

Speaking of tunes, which, I went out last night with a bunch of girls dancing - what a laugh. Tomorrow we are over to the Wagon at Hale for a sing song. I would love to take my eldest daughter to Iraq to learn about their rich cultural heritage that is hers, to learn about where she comes from. It just ain’t gonna happen. No holiday for us to go see the extended family in Baghdad (if any of them are still alive, that is) whereas, I started coming over to England, as a child, to meet my family and learn about my roots.
Canadian summers were swimming in beautiful lakes and sometimes, family over from England, as well. The winters were lovely and white, usually before Christmas.

I remember well, the good times - drinking too much beer down at the railroad tracks in the woods, as a teen, into the night; good friends, good music, good times. Canadians are cool folk… no doubt. And just like here, a few assholes are running my country and their lives into the ground. Do you ever hear much about Canada in the news? Ever wonder why?

We are Uncle Sam’s bitch and I demand a divorce.

Canadian ‘government’ needs immigrants/$$$ to tax and wants refugees/voters to blame for where all the money is going, but don’t let the tourists see or the citizenry find out what the Canadian/American media turns a blind eye to: 2 + 2 = 4 no matter what country you come from, if you are educated. War is THE big business - the most bang for OUR buck, on our/their(?) ‘privatized’ democracy. It’s nothing personal folks, just big business. ‘Representative’ democracy is a crock of shite. Give me grass roots any day of the week.

“People have to die,” was the response I was given by Mr. Limp Dick MP, outside Westminster Abbey when I interrupted him from returning to his lush banquet with BAE, the bomb makers, I do believe. What was my question?

“Why are you dropping bombs on my daughter’s people?”

My response?

“People have to die so you can sell bombs and sup, sup with the bomb makers in the church gardens and feed from the trough across the street? People like you are why I teach my children that that building over there houses the second rising of the Third Reich. Good night, sir.”

I also enquired of said ‘good’ MP, if he would aid in drafting legislation that would classify pedophiles as the dangerous offenders and permanent threat to humanity’s children that they have become. We agreed that this was an egregious act of violence and something must be done to separate their kind permanently from society’s children. His response?

“No.”

Why?

I know my life may be a bit mental for some to understand and it makes perfect sense to me. I love to sing and I understand clearly that it’s the politicians that have lost their marbles. I am just me - a small town Canadian girl with an English heart who knows right from wrong, like most. I am far from perfect. I have been known to swear like a sailor, on occasion. I do what I do because I care that much. I take my job as mom very seriously. I do lurve to have a laugh and a joke, as you know. Love a bit of Monty Python.

No sex please, we’re British! Great play. Great memories of London.

Speaking of sex, someone down the pub was silly enough to say that he had had sex with me… oops, a mate told me. I chewed him up and spat him out; put my chair back directly in front of him and sat down with my back to him and his tattoos, after a load of verbal - mine. He never said one word.

Soon after, I turned around to him and offered that if he were a man, he would apologize and I was woman enough to accept his apology. Then his mates and my mates were on his case, telling him, that he owed me an apology. My mates know what I’m like in most ways. I will speak my mind and I don’t mince my words. I don’t hold grudges, either, unless well warranted. (Tony…)

Being the English man that ‘he’ is, ‘he’ did apologize. I shook his hand and we sat down and chatted over a pint. Tony should take a lesson from that man. If only he could… Shall we let some other countries decide his fate and teach him the lesson he needs: genocide is a war crime? Nuremburg anyone?

I am a peaceful chick who doesn’t take any shite. I don’t talk shite either. I have fallen in love with England and have been feeling something personal and passionate for you too, for some time. The question in my mind is whether you can accept what I do and who I am because I am not likely to change. With you, is where I want to rest my heart and this crap might not be your scene. It is a bit much.

Lord knows Tony would like to be rid of my voice outside his doorstop and like Arnie said, “I’ll be baaackkk”. You, I hope, understand me well enough to realize I don’t take kindly to any threats or harassment directed at myself, my mates, my children, or anyone’s children for that matter - thank you very much.

Too right I am glad I count amongst my friends some good English men(especially you) and English women(my matesXXX), who stand by and stick up for me amongst the many other nationalities I call friend.

Thanks for being a friend and always being you with me, regardless of circumstance. Thanx for those lovely butterflies…